


but his heart was so cold

by calciseptine



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: M/M, giotto is a creeper (but mukuro isn't much better), where did my all my capitals go?!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-13
Updated: 2011-11-13
Packaged: 2017-10-26 01:25:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/277018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calciseptine/pseuds/calciseptine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>he lingers like a ghost in the subtle space between your body and your soul.</p>
            </blockquote>





	but his heart was so cold

**Author's Note:**

> This was an old [khrfest](http://khrfest.livejournal.com/) prompt: _Mukuro/Tsuna, Giotto — "I fear most the man who treated me the kindest."_ I don't even know how to explain this. :/

he lingers like a ghost in the subtle space between your body and your soul. his thoughts are separate from your thoughts, but there are still moments when you cannot distinguish them. this is both truth and fallacy when mukuro captures your chin with his leather-bound fingers and your mouth with his sharp teeth, when he murmurs _decimo_ into your sensitive flesh, and when his touch ignites the iron in your blood. you cannot help the embarrassing mewl that crawls up your throat from your arrested lungs, as you cannot help rolling onto the delicate balls of your naked feet and stretching the small length of your body.

"so eager, tsunayoshi," mukuro laughs delightedly into the tiny shell of your ear. as he smoothes the broad of his palm down your spine, he promises, "do not worry—i will not stop."

you do not know, in this moment, if you have ever been so selfish. neither do you care, but the specter who lives in the periphery of your being cares most empathetically. _i knew a man like your mukuro once,_ comes the gentle but unavoidable push of conversation into your brain. _i advise more caution._

with the warning comes the cloudy memory of a wicked smile and clever fingers, the vow of fealty sworn in a low voice and the sensation of rich, velvet brocade beneath an eager touch. it happens so swiftly—it always happens swiftly as though your ghost cannot contain these intense remains of his former existence—before it ends abruptly. you gasp at the heavy bittersweetness that floods your head and carves a void out underneath your ribs. mukuro cannot know— _he can't?_ your ghost whispers—he _cannot_ , but he catches the noise with his incisors and a self-satisfied grin.

"tsunayoshi," he admonishes. "you should really be more careful."


End file.
